


Him

by 221castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parent John Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel & Meg Masters Friendship, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel is Loved (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Can't Cope, Dean Winchester Has Internalized Homophobia, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is John's Good Little Soldier, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Homophobic John Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Protective Meg Masters, Sam Winchester is So Done with Dean Winchester, Teenagers, Trans Castiel (Supernatural), Trans Male Character, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26370562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221castiel/pseuds/221castiel
Summary: Dean Winchester has spent seventeen year being blindly loyal to his father, doing whatever it takes to be his dads perfect son, without question. That is until one night, when his worlds flipped upside down and he's left with the decision: continue to please an absent father, or face the reality he has yet accept.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 147





	Him

**Author's Note:**

> Teenage Au, Trans Castiel  
> Trigger warning:  
> Internalized homophobia

“What?” That was the first thing that fell from Dean’s lips as he looked to the other. His foot still pressed on the impalas break, hands tight around the steering wheel. His grip only tightened, as if that was the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him sat in the car, instead of running as far as he could.

Dean opened his mouth again to speak though nothing seemed to calm out, not that he even knew what he even wanted to say.

A honk blared from behind, and quickly Dean’s gaze was brought back to the road, his foot hitting the gas. His gaze stayed locked a head, on the dark street that spread out before, though despite his twisting stomach he couldn’t help but glance towards the other. Castiel, not Jessa, his boyfriend, not girlfriend. 

“So you’re-“ 

“A boy?” Je-Cas’s voice stayed steady, his blue eyes burning against the side of Dean's head. “Yes.” 

He didn’t know how the other stayed so calm, his own heart racing. Each beat ringing through his ears, making it impossible to focus on anything else, even the road in front. 

“Okay.” 

They didn’t speak after that, the car sitting in a heavy silence, not even the low music enough to break it. Each shift, each breath, it was all too much. Felt too wrong, too stiff. 

Dean looking forward, eyes on the road. While Castiel sat next to him, seeming frozen in place. 

It wasn’t until they pulled up to Cas’s house that Dean finally looked to the other, his gaze darting across Cas’s features, casted in shadows, though still very much visible. His sharp jawline, long hair that fell to his mid back, and blue eyes. Eyes Dean had spent hours looking at, studying, admiring, falling for. 

He’d thought he’d spend the rest of his life staring at those eyes, though now, as they stared intensely back at Dean, they brought nothing but an uneasy feeling to his stomach. 

“We need to talk.” Dean whispered, his voice empty, dreading the words to come. “I- we,” the words didn’t seem to come easy, no matter how much Dean knew they had to. “I think we should break up.”

Cas’s lips parted, eyes widening slightly, though before he could speak Dean cut him off. “It’s not you, I’m just- I’m not you know,” Dean took a hesitant breath, an unbearable pain burning at his heart. “I don’t swing that way.” 

“Yah,” Cas replied, voice emotionless. “I know.” 

“So,” the word came out slow, not as casual as Dean had intended, though he had nothing else to say, just wanting out of the stiff atmosphere that had settled in the car, suffocating his breath. Had it been this hard to breathe before, Dean wasn’t sure. “I’ll see you at school?”

Cas’s gaze darted to Dean, his blue eyes wide, hazy even through the darkness, something that only made the turning in Dean’s stomach worse, a dreaded feeling mixing in. The others lips parted only slightly for a second as if he wanted to say something though quickly decided against it. Instead he turned away, pushing the impalas door open.

“Bye,” Dean whispered, though no reply came, the passenger door only slamming shut. 

For a moment Dean didn’t pull away, instead letting his eyes close, a shaken breath parting his lips as he processed the past few minutes. The date had started out perfect, ice skating, then a walk through the park where they made plans for winter formal, everything normal, fun, the kind of nights that only made Dean fall more in love with the other.

Then things turned, once they’d gotten back in the car and Cas had become quiet.

Dean had asked what was wrong.

Nothing.

Dean had asked again five minutes later. 

Nothing.

Then again, and everything fell apart.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered. He brought his hands to his face rubbing them down in exhaustion. Without the engine on, a chill had begun to fill the car, not that Dean cared at that moment. “Fuck.” 

“fuck.”

“fuck.” The word was never said with anger, just grief, exhaustion, an emptiness that mimicked the feeling in his chest. 

A shallow breath parted his lips, before Dean turned the engine on, and pulled away from the side of the curve. The feeling in his chest never easing through the short drive to his own house.

By the time he’d stepped out of the car, and into his kitchen, the pain had swollen in his chest, becoming a mix of frantic emotions that clouded his mind. Panic. Fear. Frustration. Exhaustion. He couldn't seem to sort them out, or figure out which one to feel. The whole thing controlled his mind, all his attention stuck on it, as he got himself a bowl of mac n cheese, only giving a small good, when his dad had asked how the date had gone. 

Dean gave his food a glum stare as he joined his dad and brother at the kitchen table before stabbing it with his fork and stuffing it into his mouth. He continued the action as his brother and dad talked about Sam’s report card, straight A’s as expected; keeping his head down, until John called his name.

“Yah?” He hummed looking up to his dad. 

“Where’s your report card?”

Dean looked back to his bowl, unable to hold his father intense eye contact any longer, even with his head down he could feel his father’s stare. A scraping of Sam’s fork filled the kitchen, followed by silence. “We- we haven't gotten ours yet.” Dean finally mustered.

It was a lie, he’d gotten it though after seeing his grades it was quickly stuffed into the bottom of his bag, in hopes to be forgotten about. It wasn’t that Dean didn't try, he tried as hard as he could, it just seemed that no matter how hard he tried he’d never be able to do well in Chemistry or Spanish. With barely a passing grade in chemistry, and just under eighty in the other. 

“When’ll you be gettin’ it?” Dean shrugged, “That’s not an answer boy.”

Dean through his fork down, looking up to his father. “Yes it fucking is!” Dean snapped “If you you want my grade so fuckin’ bad maybe you should go to the school and get them yourself.”

The moment Dean had finished his expression dropped, watching his father’s own become anger. His one hand gripping his fork so tightly his knuckles had turned white, his eyebrows, and eyes narrowed. “What’d you say to me?”

“Nothing,” Dean whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Go to your room.” When Dean didn’t move John’s fist collided with the table, the silver ware clattering. “I said go to your fucking room!”

With the loud crash of his chair Dean stood, his heart hammering as he stumbled out of the kitchen, and through the hallway, not giving his brother a glance. When he got to his room his heart hadn’t calmed, still hammering with fear. His whole body tense, preparing himself for the beating that was sure to come.

He fell back into his bed, eyes wondering from Sam’s that was across the room and to the ceiling above. Studying the white popcorn pattern through his hazy vision. Tears never fell, instead his jaw clenched and he squeezed them shut tightly, letting out a shaken breath.  
He couldn’t cry, that wouldn’t make anything better. 

That wouldn’t stop the pain.

Or the fear.

Or his father’s anger, if anything it would only make things worse. 

Dean stayed that way until the sound of his door being opened filled his silent room, his eyes fluttering open, meeting his father. John’s face was still sat in a deep frown, his fists clenched at his sides, one wrapped around a crumpled piece of paper. 

Dean’s heart stopped the moment his father glared at him, a heavy feeling coming to his chest, numbing out anything he’d felt before.

“Do ya wanna explain t’me why I found your report card in the bottom of your bag?” Dean didn’t speak; he knew better than that. Instead he sat a bit more proper, pushing his shoulders back, and titling his chin up. “First you lie to me, then you fuckin’ scream at me,” John spoke steadily, somehow the ease in his voice only making things worse, his eyes never leaving Dean. Causing Dean’s body to tense. “And you have a fucking sixty three? I paid for tutoring where the hell did that money go?”

Dean dug his teeth into his bottom lip, the pain welcoming. “Boy you better fuckin’ answer me.”

“I don’t know,” Dean whispered.

“Speak up.”

“I don’t know,” Dean repeated louder, his gaze finally dropping from his father and to his hands no longer able to hold the perfect posture. 

“And I don’t know why I’m wasting my money on you when you can’t even fucking try.” Dean inhaled a sharp breath, one that burned down his throat and through his lungs. Teeth only digging deeper into his lip in a weak attempt to stop the tears. “I could have used that to send Sam on his school trip, or buy him that new game for christmas.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, guilt settling in his stomach.

“I want your grades up by winter break, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

~ 

“So you two broke up?” Lee hummend as he watched Dean put his things back into his locker, Dean only giving the smallest nod in response. “Are you still going to winter formal then?”

For a moment Dean didn’t reply, keeping his gaze on his locker, a shallow breath filling his lungs. He hadn’t slept much more than an hour the night before, head spinning with thoughts, with guilt, and pain, even now, almost a whole day later, and none of the emotions had settled down. 

“I think so,” Dean finally replied. He slammed his locker shut, leaning his shoulder against it so he could face Lee. “I’ve gotta study for chem though so I might not.”

“You do know the dance is in a few weeks right?”

“Yah, and if I don’t get my grade up or my dad’s going to kick my ass.” Dean’s gaze went from Lee to over his friends shoulder, where he could see Cas a few lockers away talking to his friend Meg. They had shared two classes together, history, and physics, though Dean had spent both classes, and most time between his classe avoiding the other. “What about you?” Dean asked looking back to Lee. “You goin’?”

“Yah, I might stop by Benny’s first for a few drinks.”

“Are they checking bags again?” Lee gave a nod, “Shit.”

Lee began to say something else, though Dean wasn’t fully paying attention, instead looking back over his friend's shoulder to Cas once again. Despite having two out of six classes together Dean hadn't truly given the other a look until now. His dark hair had been cut short, falling in messy strands, showing off his jaw line. It framed his face nicely. That was the only thing Dean could think. The hair out of his face now making his vibrant eyes even more visible

Slowly Dean’s gaze dropped from the other’s face and down his body. He wore a simple dark blue long sleeve, one Dean recognized as Gabriel’s, with a pair of black dress pants. Then traveled back up his body, stopping at his eyes that stared back. 

Shit.

Dean quickly looked back to Lee, heart somewhere between racing, and having completely stopped. “I have to-” Dean took a breath, still able to see Cas’s stare burning in his mind. “I’ve got to go, my dad’s waiting for me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, instead grabbing his bag from the ground, and turning away. He quickly pushed his way through the crowd, out of the school, and to the impala, that parked on the side of the road.

“How was school?” John asked as Dean pulled the passenger door open. He tossed his bag into the back, next to Sam, before pulling the door shut, and picking up the box of cassette tapes. 

“Fine,” Dean replied. He didn’t look up from the tapes, instead continuing to sort through them. He didn’t know what he wanted to listen to, just something that would be similar to his own frustrations.

“Did you talk with your chemistry teacher?”

“Yah, he’s letting me retake one of the tests next week.”

“Good.”

After sorting through the cassettes for a second time Dean settled on Back in Black. He pushed the tape in, though after he turned up the music, in an attempt to fill the silence, his father immediately turned it down. “Maybe you should get Jessa to help you study.”

Dean could feel the dread style in his stomach, his gaze staying forward not daring to meet his father. He should correct John, his name was Cas, though the words wouldn't come. He should confess to breaking up with the other, though that seemed even harder. Cas had been the one thing John had been truly proud of Dean for, he had found someone nice, someone smart, someone athletic, someone that had everything John wanted from Dean.

A hesitant breath filled Dean’s lungs, the lump that had formed in his throat making it almost impossible to breath. “I think she’s busy,” Dean finally whispered, the words burning against his lips. The guilt of it all, settling in every part of his body, weighing down, twisting his stomach so much it became all he could think of.

“She has a game tonight right?” Dean gave the smallest nod of his head. “Are you going?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I can drive you,” John offered. “Take Sam, it could be fun.”

Finally Dean looked towards his dad, another hesitant breath filling his lungs, his heart hammering against his chest. He wished he was anywhere else, still at school, buried under the covers of his bed, dead in a ditch. The last was most prefered.

What would happen if John found out, Dean would be dead, if he was lucky, though he could only keep lying for so long. Eventually he'd have to admit to his dad that he was just as John expected, still a failure. 

“Okay,” Dean finally mustered. “Thanks.”

~

The dread had settled in Dean’s stomach the moment he had taken a seat on the bleachers, Sam sat next to him. His brother had originally tried to talk to him, discuss the team’s that warmed up on the court, the chances of their team winning, what Dean thought the score would be like; though Dean had snapped back some replies, causing Sam to ignore him and instead play on his phone. 

Dean’s gaze stayed forward watching the other team warmup until the sound of his name being called got his attention. 

“Dean,” Charlie called, waving towards him from the bottom of the bleachers. Across her own face was a wide smile, though Meg, who was stood next to her didn’t hold the same excitement. Her own features sat in a deep frown, eyes glaring up at Dean, her dark gothic fashion only giving her a more angered look.

Dean gave a forced smile in return, waving back. 

Please don’t sit with him, Dean begged silently as Meg said something to Charlie. Please don’t sit with him. Charlie said something back before grabbing Megs wrist and dragging her in their direction. Fuck.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming,” Charlie said, as she took a seat next to Dean, Meg sitting next to her. Her voice held it’s usual cheering tone, eyes crinkled in the corners, as she smiled, radiating the warmth that always seemed to surround her. Dispite the warmth, it gave Dean no reasures, him and Charlie were fine, they were friends, and always would be it was Meg who was the problem.

Him and her were acquaintances at the best of times. Meg was Cas’s closest friend, and frankly had never thought Dean was good enough, which she was probably right about. Not that Dean would ever admit it out loud.

Dean shrugged, “I didn’t want to’ miss his first game on the boys team.”

“Yah,” Meg mumbled, loud enough that Dean could easily hear. “I’m sure he’s fuckin estatic that you’re here.”

“Look,” Dean spat back, “I didn’t want to fuck-”

“Does Cas look okay to you?” Charlie cut in, in an obvious attempt to stop the fight.

Dean’s glare dropped from Meg and instead went to Cas, who was sat at the other end of the gym, just off the basketball court where the rest of the team warmed up. From the distance it was hard to tell though his skin seemed pale, his eyes locked on the boys in front of him, as he slowly stretched.

Dean’s gaze stayed there until the sound of shuffling came from his right and he looked back to Meg, who had stood. “I’m going to check on him.” She said.

“I’ll talk to him,” Dean replied, unsure exactly what had caused him to do so. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the oether, the pain that weighed on his chest too much to bare, but he couldn’t imagine leaving Cas alone before a game he was nervous about. He never had and wasn’t willing to start now.

Whether it was because a scout was coming to watch, or because it was finals, no matter what had brought the nerves Dean had always talked to Cas until the other was calm enough to play. Joke about the girl on the other team who didn't pull her hair back, point out the overly dramatic coach who glared across the gym like a vulture. Dean would do anything to get the other calm, and even now with the pain, and strain between them Cas was still his best friend and he was still willing to do anything for the other.

“No you aren’t.” Meg replied, in a low voice.

“Yes I am.”

He wasn’t sure whether Charlie had stopped Meg or if Meg had chosen to let him leave though when Dean turned away, he wasn’t stopped. Instead he walked along the sidelines of the gym, until he reached their team’s bench, where Cas sat on the floor. 

“Hey,“ Dean whispered softly as he took a seat next to the other. 

Cas didn’t flinch at the sound of Dean’s voice, not even giving him a glance, instead his gaze staying forward watching as the rest of his team warmed up. 

Up close, the fear was much more clear, his eyes wide, and lips pressed in a tight line. His hands were at his basketball shoes, untying and retying the laces, a nervous habit of his that happened when he was trying to waste time.

“What are you doing here?” Cas finally replied, though he spoke at the same quiet volume as Dean, the gentlessnes wasn’t there, instead rough, bitter. 

For a second Dean couldn't reply, too focused on the uneasy pain that swelled in his heart. Burning across his finger tips, in his lung, through his mind, a pain he couldn't quite explain, maybe guilt. He never wanted to hurt the other, that was the last thing he had ever wanted.

“Am I not allowed to support my friend?”

“I didn't think we were friends.”

“Of course we’re friends, we just aren’t-” More, partners, lovers. Boyfriends. The very thought twisted Dean’s stomach. “Are you nervous?” Cas gave the smallest shake of his head. “Cas, don’t lie to me.”

Dean could feel the other tense, his gaze finally looking to Dean, wide, and blue, a dark shade, so vibrant, it was almost impossible to imagine as real. “I’m incredibly nervous.”

“You’ve played with them before.”

“This time it’s different.”

“Cas,” Dean whispered softly, Dean’s gaze dropped for a second from the other’s eyes, to his lips, chapped as usual, and probably tasting of cherry gatorade as they always did before games. Despite being chapped they would be soft, fitting perfectly against Dean’s, the same way their hands fit. 

Dean’s gaze stayed there for another second before he realized what he was doing and quickly looked back to the other’s eyes. “You’re going to kick their asses like you always do,” Dean paused. “Then somoenes going to try to hurt you like they always do and you’re going to kick their asses harder.”

A smile gazed Cas’s lips, though it wasn’t like his usual ones that made his eyes shine, just small, almost sad. “You don’t have to play if you don’t want to,” Dean continued.

“I want to,” Cas’s chest raised as he took a deep breath, his gaze going back to the boys on the court. What was he thinking, if things were okay between them he would have said. If things were okay between them, he would have trusted Dean. “I should begin warming up.”

Slowly Cas stood, Dean following suit. For a moment they didn’t move, almost chest to chest, so close Dean could feel the heat of the other, his heart hammering the way it always had when Cas was too close. Now it was different. Now Dean wasn’t sure whether it was from nerves or utter fear. 

Cas’s gaze met Dean’s, holding there for barely a second before he turned away. “Je-” Dean caught the word, just as Cas turned. “Cas, I just- You’re going to do great.”

“Thank you, Dean.” 

Dean gave the smallest nod before he turned away, walking back to his spot in the bleachers. 

He didn’t talk through the first quarter, instead watching the game in silence, giving small claps when their team made a basketball, putting a little more effort in when it was Cas’s. The first quarter hadn’t been amazing, Cas was good, just not a stand out like Dean knew he could be, seeming tense, and not fully in the game. By the second quarter he had relaxed, and by the third after half time he was one of the best on the court.

Through the whole first third Dean kept his mouth shut, not speaking until half way through the final quarter. “How’s he been doing?” Dean finally asked. He shifted his body so he could look at Charlie, his friend looking back. 

“Just fuckin awesome,” Meg snapped before Charlie could reply. “i’m sure having you here is just making it all better.”

“I’m just trying to be a good friend.” Dean replied, in the same harsh voice, low enough that hopefully no one around them could hear.

“You aren't his friend,” Dean could feel his blood boiling, as his fists clenched. Meg’s face now rested in a harsh snear, probably similar to Dean’s own features. “You aren’t the one who has to listen to him cry. You get to just move on to the next slut dumb enough to fuck you.”

“I didn’t want to break up with him” 

“Then what is it?” to busy licking daddies boots?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Dean snapped. He didn’t look back to Meg instead grabbing his brother’s wrist and pulling Sam to his feet. 

“We’re leaving,” was the only thing he could muster through his boiling anger, as he dragged Sam behind him. He knew he was being rough, Sam hadn’t done anything, though he needed out of the gym, away from Meg, away from Cas, away from the whole fucking situation. 

It wasn’t until they stepped outside, and onto the snow covered paths that he let go of Sam’s wrist, allowing his brother to walk on his own. “Dean!” He recognized Charlie’s voice yelling for him from behind though he didn’t stop. If anything he made his angered foot steps more clear, snow crunching under his boots.

“Dean! Please!”

“Dean!” 

Finally he stopped in place, though instead of looking to Charlie he looked to his brother. “Sam,” Dean began, “go find dad.”

Sam opened his mouth, seeming to want to say something though much to Dean’s relief he didn’t. Instead leaving Dean to turn, to his friend, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

“What do you want Charlie?” 

For a moment Charlie didn’t reply, her gaze darting across Dean’s features, arms pulling her jacket closed, us a gust of chilled wind came. Her own features sat in a small frown, the moonlight above casting shadows across her wide eyes. 

“I wanted to apologize about Meg,” she finally whispered, voice seeming to hang in the dark. “None of that was right of her.”

“Yah, well, she said what we were all fuckin thinking,” Dean replied. He pulled his own jacket closer to his body, fingertips numb. A shaken breath parted his lips as he glanced over his shoulder to the parking lot, though through the dark he couldn’t tell which car was the impala. 

The sound of crunching snow filled his ears, and his gaze quickly darted back to Charlie, who had taken a step closer, followed by a second. Dean himself staying frozen in spot, watching, breathing, heart hammering in his chest.

“Why’d you break up with Cas?” 

There it was the question. The question he had been wanting to avoid since Charlie had sat with him at the bleachers, the question Dean knew Charlie already had the answer for.

“Cause I’m not,” Dean hesitated for a moment, the word stuck on his lips. “You know.”

“Gay?”

Dean gave the smallest nod of his head. His teeth grazed his lower lip, his nose scrunching slightly as he could feel the tears begin to form, the cold air only making it harder to fight. He wasn’t gay, the word itself weighed on his heart, turning his stomach in absotuly disgust, at himself, at his thoughts, at even the possibilty.

He wasn’t gay.

He couldn’t be. 

“Look,” Dean said, voice raising. “If he’s trans I dont care- I don‘t but i’m not going to date’im.” The words were coming out frantically as Dean spoke, desperate for Charlie to understand, for her to stop pestering him. His dad would be waiting and John hearing the conversation was the last thing Dean needed. “I’m not gay.”

“But what if you are!”

“But i’m not!”

“Dean, I saw you with Benny before he moved,” Charlie cried, her voice rising with each passing second, matching Dean’s own rising tone. Her features no longer rested relaxed but angered, teeth clenching, stance open, leaning towards Dean as if ready to lunge. “You weren’t just friends.” 

“Stopping forcing this on me.” 

“Dean-”

“I’m not, I can’t be!”

As Dean screamed the last words, Charlie’s expression faltered, her expression going from anger, to pure concern. She took a step forward, though Dean took a step back. He refused to be near her, to be close enough to see every detail of her face, close enough to hear her breath, close enough for her so see the few tears that rolled down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong with being gay?”

Everything. It was wrong. It was weak. It was disgusting.

It wasn’t what his dad wanted.

With all the thoughts spinning through his head, the emotions blurring with the words, the small gasps of breaths barely filling his lungs, he couldn't reply. Insead he gave Charlie one last look before turning away. “I’ve gotta go.”

He could hear the slight crunch of snow under his boots, though that was it. No attempt from Charlie to stop him, no finally words, only the snow mixed with his own shallow breaths.

The pain in his heart clouded his mind as he made his way back to the impala, continuing through the drive home, and then for the rest of the night as he laid awake staring at his ceiling above.

He couldn't shake the thoughts.

The emotions.

The world piling upon him.

Threatening to crumble.

Threatening to kill him.

He’d been trying to be perfect for so long. Perfect grades. Perfect athlete. Perfect future. Perfect girlfriend. Perfect life. Perfect son. But now perfect seemed to crumble upon him, just out of grasp, staying that way no matter how hard he ran towards it. No matter how much effort he put in, no matter how much he sacrificed. 

Perfect. Even the word itself now seemed impossible.

By morning the pain that settled in his body had only worsened, mixing with the exhaustion from his sleepless night. The emotions only continuing to build through his school day, and by last class, history, the only thing he wanted more than to die, was a cup of coffee.

He kept his head down as the teacher at the head of the class talked, Naomi, one of the strictest and most boring teachers their school had to offer. She had a particular interest in World War Two, often going on class long rants about different topics to do with it, and that day was no exception as she told the class about Alan Turning. 

“It is believed that by him cracking the enigma code, the war was shortened by anywhere from two to four years.”

Dean brought his pencil to the lined paper he had in front of him aimlessly drawing circles, and other patterns across it.

“Also saving thousands of lives. Despite this due his sexuality, he was put under heavy drugs, which lead to his suicide.”

He didn’t dare look up, he couldn’t. Any time he did his gaze always seemed to land in Castiel who sat a few rows ahead of him, probably listening to every word the teacher said. History had always been one of his favourite classes. 

“Alan Turning- Dean, are you listening?”

He didn't reply, instead continuing to draw scribble lines across his paper. “Dean,” Naomi repeated, in stirn tone. “Are you listening to me?”

“I am,” Dean snapped, looking up to the women who only glared back at him. “I just don’t give a fuck about some dead faggot.”

“Out. Now.” the words were spoken so suddenly, so harsh, that for a second Dean could only stare back wide eyed. His heart hammering in his chest, as the teacher's eyes never left him. He really fucked up, though frankly he was too exhausted to care. “I said get out. You can wait in the hall, and I will talk to you when class ends.”

Another breath parted Dean’s lips, his eyes still on the teacher as he stood, chair screeching. He quickly packed his things, making as much noise as possible, before he stomped out of the classroom, slamming the door shut behind.

He spent the last twenty minutes of class in the halls. Walking around the school or talking with other kids that were wasting time in the hallways. It wasn’t until the bell rang, that he returned to the doorway, the teacher soon calling him back into the room. 

“Dean,” Naomi began, looking to Dean with a stern stare, though Dean's own gaze stayed anywhere else. He didn’t have time to listen to her talk, he needed to leave so he could find Sam and walk his brother home. “You are aware our school takes any form of hate incredibly serious.” 

Dean didn’t reply, instead locking his jaw, clenching his fists at his side. “Your words can really hurt another student, and I think you’ll have time to think about that over detention? Does that sound fair?”

“Sure,” Dean mumbled.

“Then you can take a seat.”

Dean’s gaze immediately turned to the women, mouth gapped, and eyes wide. “No, I can’t do today.”

“Well you should have thought of that before you used such derogatory language.”

“Please.”

Dean would have taken any other day, when his dad was picking them up, but on tuesday when they had to walk home. He didn't like Sam walking alone, even if he was twelve. Dean trusted his brother, he didn’t trust the area of town they lived in. 

“Sit.”

“I can’t-”

“Do I need to call your father?”

Dean clenched his teeth together, glaring up at the women for another moment before he turned away, making as much noise as possible as he walked to the desk she’d pointed to. He dropped his bag with a loud thud, then dragged the chair out before falling into it. 

Fuck Naomi. 

~

Dean didn’t waste a single second after detention had ended, flinging his backpack over his shoulder and rushing out of the school. The moment he pushed the front door open, he was met with the child air burning against his cheeks. His eyes darted across the entrance of the school, landing on a bench a few feet away where Sam sat, next to him Castiel. 

“Shit,” Dean whispered. He knew he had no other option but to talk to the other, he couldn’t leave without Sam, though that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting. Every inch of his body screaming for him to run, the anxiety only burning worse with each step he took.

“Hey,” Dean greeted when he was only a few feet away. Both Sam and Cas looked up from the text book they’d been flipping through, though Dean’s gaze stayed firmly on Sam. “Sorry I was late, my history teacher was being a bitch.” 

Dean pulled out his phone, swiping through it until he found Sam’s number and quickly opened their messages.

“It’s all good,” Sam said, smiling up to Dean, “Cas waited with me.”

Dean felt a tug at his heart, his gaze finally darting to Castiel, though the other was looking to Sam. “It was nice to see you,” Cas said, smiling to Sam, something that only made the dull pain in Dean’s heart burn.

Why couldn’t Cas just hate Sam, why did he have to be nice. It would have made everything easier for Dean. 

“Yah!” Sam agreed.

Dean clenched his teeth, and before anything more could be said he grabbed his brother’s wrist, pulling him to his feet. “We need to get going,” Dean mumbled, continuing to pull Sam behind him despite his brother calling a quick goodbye to Cas. 

It wasn’t until they were out of the school grounds that Dean let go, instead stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, attempting to warm his already numb fingers.

He looked down as they walked, unable to look to his brother, his gaze staying on the thin layer of snow that covered the sidewalk. He could hear Sam’s low breaths, the shuffling of his brother putting his textbook away, and then tenseness, as if Sam wanted to say something though couldn’t find the words to.

It was probably for the best, Dean didn’t want to hear whatever Sam had to say. It was rude, but Dean was exhausted, his mind spinning with thoughts. Cas, his dad, Charlie. Benny.

No matter how much he thought about it, he never could seem to sort things out, calm the emotions that raged through him.

That kept him up at night. 

That left him too scared to be alone.

“Dean,” Sam whispered softly. Fuck. Despite the dread in his stomach Dean looked to his brother, humming in response. “Why’d you break up with Cas?” 

“Cause he’s a dude.” Dean took a slow breath, attempting to calm his frustration, fighting with Sam wouldn’t get him anywhere. “And I’m not gay.” 

“Maybe you’re bi.” 

Dean clenched his jaw, hoping in some way that if he ignored the weight in his chest it would go away. “How do you know what that is?” his voice didn’t hold the anger he thought it would, instead almost empty, exhausted. 

“My friend says he’s bi.”

Dean didn’t stop the frown that grazed his lips. “Which one?” 

“Kevin.”

“And you’re okay with that?” 

“Yah,” Sam looked up, Dean’s breath hitching in his throat as he met his brother’s wide gaze. Innocent, kind, yet to be destroyed by the harsh reality of the world. Dean would keep it that way for as long as possible, let him stay a kid for as long as he could. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well I’m not bi either,” Dean spat, looking back to the ground. Though the words were for Sam, he wasn’t sure who was trying to convince his brother, or himself. 

The weight on his chest only becoming heavier as they walked in silence, weighing him down with each step. With each breath. With each thought.

Him. Bisexual.

Him. Bisexual.

Him. Broken. 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a second, a shaken breath filling his lungs. “Is it because of dad?” Sam whispered, voice so low, so broken, Dean almost hadn’t heard. “Like Meg said.”

“Why would dad have anything to do with this?” 

“Cause he’s a jackass.”

Dean’s gaze immediately shot back to his brother who was already looking back to him. “Sam!” Dean snapped, glaring harshly at his brother. “Don’t talk about dad like that, he’s trying his hardest.”

“No he isn’t.” Sam mumbled his gaze dropping to the ground. Dean himself looked back to the empty road they walked next to the trees and bushes surrounding them covered in a layer of powdered snow. It could have been peaceful. If they talked about something, anything else.

If the fear didn’t course through Dean’s viens, if he could breathe without feeling like he was drowning. 

If he was normal.  
“I wouldn’t care if you were bi.” Dean felt his heart stop at Sam’s whisper, the words so soft, so innocent, Sam might as well have been asking to lay with Dean after a nightmare, not something such as sexuality. More importantly Dean’s. “I’d still love you.” 

Dean didn’t reply, he couldn’t, instead locking his jaw, hoping to stop the tears that blurred his vision.

Dean had faced pain before. Some people were just meant to suffer, and it seemed Dean was one of them. Meant to spend his whole life fighting, bloody, and bruised, suffering for a reason he hadn’t figured out. 

Dean had faced his mother dying.

He’ d watched his childhood be torn from his grasp.

He’d been beaten, and a dissapointment. 

He’d had bruises, and scars, and burns, and broken bones, but nothing hurt more then Sam’s words.

Nothing had left his world crumbling more then Sam.

A shaken breath filled Dean’s lungs, as he stopped in place, just able to meet his brother’s gaze through his blurred vision. His lips parted, and for a moment as tears began rolling down his cheeks, the words seemed stuck.

“Do you promise?”

~

Two weeks had passed in a blink of his eye and before Dean knew it it was the night of the winter formal, and he was parked outside of the Novak’s house. His hands still on the steering wheel, eyes on the large white house in front of him. 

The last time he’d been there couldn’t have been more than three weeks, though it felt more like life times. When he sat with Cas, when he’d broken up with Cas, when he’d forced the other away without a second thought. 

Dena took one last deep breath before pushing open the car door. His legs almost crumbling under him as he shakenly walked along the path leading to the house, up their porch and to the front door, where he knocked. 

One second passed. 

Then another.

Each one only making the racing of Dean's heart worse. He should turn around, Cas wouldn’t even want him there. What was he doing. 

Just as Dean had made up his mind to turn around the door was pulled open to reveal Gabriel, one of Cas’s older brothers. The other’s gaze had looked Dean up and down in a harsh glare, his eyes finally landing on Dean’s, which didn’t do anything to calm Dean’s heart. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Gabriel snapped. 

As Dean's mouth opened to reply, the door was slammed harshly in his face.

“Hey,” Dean cried. He brought his fists to the wood, bainging against it as hard as he could. “Gabriel,” Dean screamed, “open the door you son of a bitch!” 

He gave the door one last harsh knock before stepping back to the porch stairs where he took a seat, back to the front door. 

He’d really fucked up, and the weight that rested on Deans heart only proved it. He wanted to make it better, though even still a part of him, as he sat in the cold December night, wanted to turn around. Declare he wasn’t gay and move on, because how could he be. He was straight, he was supposed to be straight at least.

Not gay.

Not broken.

From behind he could hear the door open, followed by soft footsteps. “Dean.” 

Dean’s head immediately turned at the sound of his name, his breath hitching as his eyes met Cas’s. “Cas,” Dean barely whispered, continuing to stare at the other.

He didn’t speak again instead watching in silence as Cas walked across the porch, taking a seat next to him. “Hey,” Dean finally whispered, his gaze once again meeting the others. 

The porch light had casted shadows across his face though even still his features were visible, framed perfectly by his short hair cut. His jawline, his slightly pointed down lips, head tilted the slightest bit. He was handsome, something Dean had to admit through his twisting stomach. 

The whole look pulled together by the suit he wore. It was a simple black one, probably Michael or Lucifer’s, as it hung around his shoulders a size or two too big, even still it gave him an energy that Dean hadn’t felt around the other before. A confidence.

Dean liked it. 

“How have you been?” 

“Good.” 

Dean gave the smallest nod of his head. “Cool.”

As silence fell between them Dean looked down, unable to hold the other’s gaze any longer. Whatever he planned on saying was long forgotten, replaced by the fear that rushed through his veins. What was he going to say.

I’m bi.

I love you.

I’m sorry. 

None of it seemed right, either too honest or not honest enough. 

How Dean had been able to tell Sam, he wasn’t sure. Now the words seemed impossible. Him. Bisexual.

Him. Bisexual.

Him. Broken.

Luckily for Dean whatever opportunity he had was lost as the silence they sat in was broken by the sound of the front door being pushed open. 

“Hey boys,” Dean turned his head, looking to Chuck, Cas’s dad, who had stepped onto the deck and was walking towards them, a white mug in each hand. “It’s getting pretty cold out here so I thought you two could use some hot chocolate.”

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled, taking the mug Chuck offered him. The glass was burning against hisi numb fingers, though in some way it was reassuring, the pain helping him focus, keeping his panic at bay.

After saying a quick goodbye and another thank you to Chuck Dean placed the mug next to him. He couldn’t imagine drinking, he didn’t think it would stay in his stomach even if he were to.

He brought his hands back to his lap, gaze going from his hands, and to Cas, the other already looking to him.

For a moment Dean couldn’t speak too focused on realizing just how close they sat. Shoulders touching, thighs bruising with each small movement. He could feel the slight rise of Cas’s shoulders with each breath the other took, feel his heat radiating around him, comforting and familiar. 

That’s how it had always been, they were always standing to close, touching in the smallest ways, any chance they could get. Trusting each other to always be there, for warmth, for comfort, for when they needed the other.

Dean could trust Cas.

And Cas deserved to know he could trust Dean/

“I should apologize.” Dean finally whispered, his words hanging in the silence. “What I did, how I did it,” he took a shaken breath, vision blurring with tears. “None of it was fair to you, I’m just-“ 

Dean gasped for a breath attempting to calm his racing heart, though there was no stopping it as a tear rolled down his cheek, followed by a second, then a third. He could trust Cas.

“I’m terrified,” the moment the words fell his body began shaking in sobs, tears rolling down his cheeks, with no sign of stopping. Only getting worse after each gasped breath. He could feel Cas’s hands on his shoulders at first hesitant, but the moment Dean lent into the touch Cas pulled him into a tight hug. “I-I love- I love you so fuckin much, and I’m terrified of it, I’m terriefied of myself.” Another sob shook his body, as he buried his face into Cas’s shoudler

“I’m terrified of my dad.”

“If he finds out that i’m-” gay, bi, head over heals falling out of plane in love with another boy. Dean didn’t want to know what would happen. “I’m- im sorry- i’m so sorry I pulled you into this.”

“Dean, I understand,” Cas whispered softly. He trailed a hand down Dean’s back though it did nothing to calm him. The fear still bubbled, burning through every inch of his skin, threatening to drown him in his own mind. Mixing with the self hate, the disgust.  
Why couldn’t he just be fucking normal.

“It’s okay.” 

“It really isn’t.” Dean whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears still rolling down his cheeks even though he no longer sobbed. “I’m so fuckin sorry, I’m sorry I fucked up, I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.” 

This time Cas didn’t reply, and Dean was okay with with that, instead letting them sit in silence, broken only by their soft breaths.

Dean shifted slightly tilting his head so it still rested against Ca’s shoulder though he could now watch the empty street, only one of Cas’s arms now around his shoulder. It was peaceful, the night sky, the snow covered streets, the others warmth. Dean could almost imagine it was any other day, when they just wanted to enjoy each other’s company.

“Hows basketball goin’?” Dean asked. He could feel the other shift, though he kept his gaze a head, on the parked impala.

“Really well.”

“None of the other boys are giving you trouble?” He could feel the other shake his head. “Good, cause I’d kick their asses.”

“I know,” Cas replied softly, though there was a light feeling to his tone, one that made Dean’s heart flutter, and lips tug in a small smile. “What about football, do you know what it’s starting?”

“I don’t think I’m going to join this year.”

“But your the quarterback.”

“And it’s a shitty sport.” Dean let his flutter shut lips parted the slightest bit. He could feel Cas’s shoulder rise then fall, hear his shallow breaths. How had he gotten so lucky, Dean didn’t deserve him, not in a thousands lives.

Dean was loud and mouthy, sarcastic and rude.

Fucked up

And Cas, Cas wasn’t. Cas was good,

He was kind to the world, he loved with every inch of his being, and cared with everything he had to offer. Cas was good, and warm, and comforting, and radiating.

“I’m sorry,” Dean repeated softly.

“Dean, you don’t have to keep apologizing.” Dean raised his head, gaze meeting the other’s. “I understand.” 

“I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you as well.”

Quickly Dean brought his hand to face, swiping away the tear that had fallen. He pushed himself from the deck step, stretching before he turned back to Cas. “So should we get going to the dance,” Dean began, offering his hand to the other. “Or are we going to let some other bitches be the cutest couple.” 

Cas’s lips parted, his wide eyes looking up to Dean. “Couple?”

“Uh yah,” A hesitant breath parted Dean’s lips, his own gaze darting across the other. “If it’s okay with you.”

The shocked expression that had rested on Cas’s face became a smile as he took Dean’s hand, using it to stand. “Of course it is.” 

Together they walked towards the impala, hand in hand, Dean’s heart hammering. He was holding a boy's hand, he was going to a school dance with a boy, he was in love with a boy. More importantly it was Cas, he was in love with Cas, he was going to a school dance with Cas, he was holding Cas’s hand. 

His hand stayed firmly locked with the other’s until they reached the impala, when he turned to look at Cas. His gaze darting from Castiel’s face and down his body, the suit jacket he wore baggy, making him seem smaller than he actually was. 

“Let’s switch.”

“Switch?” Cas frowned, tilting his head slightly, “Dean I don’t unde-”

“Our jacket’s,” Dean explained, “mine will fit you better.”

When Cas didn’t reply, and only looked at Dean with a still slightly confused look, Dean pulled his jacket off, offering it to the other. Cas was still smaller then Dean though not by much, maybe an inch shorter, and with slightly slimmer shoulders, not that it would be noticeable with Dean’s jacket on.  
“Thank you,” Cas whispered. He hesitantly took the jacket from Dean, giving Dean his own before pulling the new one on. “Better? Cas asked, eyes on Dean’s.

Dean’s own gaze dropped down the other, before landing back on Cas’s blue eyes, vibrant even in the dark, the other’s lips turned up in a small smile matching Dean’s own. God he was in love with that boy. “Yah,” Dean whispered. “Much better.”

**Author's Note:**

> It :) was supposed to be :) 4000 words :) not 8000+ :)  
> Anyways it usually takes me about five hours to write, edit, and read through a 2000 word chapter, this is 8284 word oneshot.... it is the longest “chapter” I’ve ever written, it took me forever to finish! I don’t even know if it’s good but I can’t bring myself to reread it again!  
> So I hope you enjoyed.  
> I wanted to cry a lot while writing this. I’m never writing anything this long again... I don’t even know if I can write ever again, my brain can’t word.  
> Anyways I REALLY hope you enjoyed this, it took everything out of me  
> Lots of love, paige


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